Reeking of low production values, Gary Winick's Tadpole
is a strangely engaging entry into the quality paradox category;
its style and tone and subject matter all embody something refreshingly
different from the regular glossy product that flows out of Hollywood,
but its execution is crude and surprisingly amateurish. Like a
final project from a student film class, it has a raw and unsophisticated
look, and the acting is sometimes quite stilted, even from experienced
cast members like Sigourney Weaver, John Ritter, and Bebe Neuwirth.
But that might be a good thing. While the multitude of bottom-line-focused
standard releases flood the marketplace, dulling our senses with
their deafening sameness, this movie thumbs its nose at the industry,
defying the conventional wisdom of fiscal concerns and putting
itself out there.

Somehow reminiscent of The Catcher In The Rye, this
story, penned by Heather McGowan, Niels Mueller, and director
Winick, concerns events that take place during a young man's Thanksgiving
vacation home from prep school. Like Holden Caulfield, 15-year-old
Oscar Grubman (played by 25-year-old Aaron Stanford) is intelligent,
idealistic, and yet wise beyond his years, and it makes his life
almost unbearable. While his best friend (Robert Iler) talks about
hooking up with the school hottie (Kate Mara), Oscar quotes Voltaire
and obsesses about the beauty of an older woman's hands. The hands
he's particularly interested in belong to a 40-year-old cardiobiologist
named Eve (Weaver), which wouldn't be so bad if she weren't married
to his father (Ritter). Still, Oscar believes his stuffy, history
professor dad is insensitive to Eve's needs and decides that,
regardless of the obvious obstacles, he's going to win her love
during his visit home, hoping to impress her with his charming
manner, his knowledge of philosophy, and his ability to speak
French. This plan is slightly derailed when he has an unexpected
sexual encounter with Eve's fun-loving best friend, the also-40-year-old
Diane (Neuwirth).

Although this picture is enjoyable simply because of its freshly
experimental nature, it is filmed like a home movie (reportedly
on digital video instead of film); the camera searches around
as if trying to find its subject, and occasionally makes you wish
it had occurred to Winick to invest in a $35 tripod. The acting
is sometimes electric and other times remarkably stiff, as if
the actors liked the material but didn't have adequate time to
rehearse. Stanford, who is given an "introducing" credit,
seems to be the most preparedobviously he's not going to
be careless with such an important, career-launching partbut
the veterans, especially Weaver and Ritter, often give the impression
that they didn't feel the need to try for flawless, or even terribly
good, performances. Neuwirth appears at least to be having funbut
hey, she gets to make out with a man 20 years her juniorwho
wouldn't enjoy such a sweet gig? ***½